The Marker
by Dan Taylor
Summary: Han Solo owes an old friend, and that friend has come to collect.


**The Marker**   
by   
fanDANgo

  
  


There was something about the feel of the modified Havoc 9K repeating assault blaster in his hand that Jerolm absorbed like the warmth of a heated shelter during a bone chilling night on Hoth. Without his sidearm he felt vulnerable, naked, a target. While there were few in the galaxy that actually still used the bulky blaster, the Havoc had earned Jerolm's trust as if it were the closest of family members. Not quite as long as a standard Imperial issue blaster, its girth was nearly twice that of the Stormtrooper sidearm. No other blaster felt right in his hand, and Jerolm had had plenty of opportunity during his career as a bounty hunter to try most within the Inner and Outer Rims. In the seven standard years since he salvaged the blaster from a derelict freighter, it had never jammed on him during a firefight, and he had a feeling that it never would. 

With his arms crossed over his expansive chest and the blaster firmly gripped in his right hand, it appeared as if he were cradling the weapon as if it were a beloved infant. But, the remaining elements of Jerolm's appearance dispelled any illusion of whatever motherly instincts he possessed. He was a large man with the sturdy structure of one who had grown up on a planet with a just above average gravitational pull. He stood a head taller than most other humans that he had met did. His head was bald, but he wore a goatee that covered the scar of an assassin's unsuccessful garrote attempt under his chin. His nose was no stranger to being broken, and it was still a bit swollen as a result of a debate with a pair of gamblers over a questionably winning hand of sabacc. 

His attire comprised of a cadet's flightsuit that a tailor had to have taken out at just about every seam. Although he himself had not lasted a semester at the academy, he found the flightsuit quite comfortable. In fact it had been the only source of comfort in the academy besides flying the combat simulations. Over the flightsuit was a bomber's jacket well worn from the elements of may different planets. The back of the jacket was emblazoned with the gorgeous goddess of war of some far off world as she emerged from the flames of said world's hell. It was the emblem associated with the former privateer gang known as Aurora's Brigade. Now former due to the fact that most members of this so-called entrepreneurial organization were either deceased or expected to die while still incarcerated in an Imperial labor mine. Jerolm had managed to part ways with the group just before its downfall. The rest of his getup was comprised more in the fashion of an independent mercenary that relied on wits more than equipment. 

Jerolm surveyed the promenade of Sutter's Station from an alcove tucked between a used droid depository and a now defunct authentic Twi'lek eatery. Sutter's Station was an out of the way stopover for travelers that were either lost or not intending on being kept track of. The station itself was situated on a barren moon orbiting a yellow/red gas giant that had an atmosphere swirling with storms. The facility was a way station, nothing more, nothing less. Currently the promenade was bustling with activity, more so than usual, as wayfarers and passengers attended to last minute business between connecting spaceflights. Sutter's Station had no formal port authority, and the Empire had yet to deem it worthy of such, so it served as the perfect way station for those in a hurry to get somewhere or away from somewhere with minimum resistance. Currently though, Jerolm was in no hurry. He was here wait. 

It was not long before Jerolm's attention was seized by the appearance of a large Wookie with chestnut fur merged through the crowd. At well over two meters in height, and a racial reputation of notable fierceness when angered, the denizen of Kashyyyk had little trouble making his way across the promenade. While some within the galaxy may argue that all Wookies looked alike, Jerolm had no problem recognizing Chewbacca, first mate aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. Jerolm slid the Havoc blaster into his low hanging holster, slid it back out and in just incase he would have to draw it out in a hurry, and set off to meet the Wookie on the promenade. 

Jerolm realized that Chewbacca noticed him as soon as he stepped out from the shadows of the alcove. That was not surprising, since he had learned the hard way that trying to sneak around the Wookie was not an easy task. The two headed straight for each other through the crowd. Although he was a large man, Jerolm still had to crane his neck to look up into the blue eyes of the Wookie once they were standing toe to toe. Without saying anything, Jerolm quickly balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into Chewbacca's mid-section. 

The Wookie let out a grunt that converted into a low growl as he swung his large arm up and over the smaller human, his hand firmly gripping the baldhead of his assailant. With little more than a few startled gasps, the crowd quickly repelled from around the two as if they were carriers of the contagious murkian fever of Dagobah. Chewbacca's growl reverberated into a guttural chuckle as Jerolm continued to flail his fist against the Wookie's body, causing little to no discomfort. Those travelers amid the promenade that were not in a hurry slowed down to see if the Wookie would actually crush the man's skull where he stood. But, they quickly continued on their way when they realized that the two combatants knew each other and were now engaged in a hug of two old friends. 

"Why you old mange ridden fur-ball," Jerolm chuckled as the Wookie released his near rib crushing embrace. Chewbacca responded with a few growls and grunts. 

Jerolm scowled. "Who you calling baldy?" 

Chewbacca howled another jibe at Jerolm's expense. 

"Watch it, Chewie. Otherwise you're going to find yourself on the wrong end of a Kovarian razor." Jerolm made a couple of quick slashing motions with his hands to emphasize the point. "Now, where's that good for nothing Corellian bum, Solo?" 

* * * 

Han Solo sat with his back to the wall in the darkest booth of an unnamed cantina. As far as dives went, he had been in worse, much worse. Although they served drinks and he thought he saw a patron order food, Han was convinced that the main reason this establishment existed was to conduct business with whomever you would rather not conduct business with and get out. Besides himself and the bartender, there were half a dozen other pairs of humans and/or aliens engaged in quiet discussions amongst themselves.   
  
Han had a bad feeling about this. 

The cramped booth he had settled in reminded him of the trash compactor aboard the Death Star. Or, perhaps it was the odor of the untouched drink on the small table in front of him. Either way, Han was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Then he noticed Jerolm and Chewie enter the dank cantina. Han put on a smile, wondering if that it would appear as fake as it felt. 

Jerolm and Chewbacca slid into the booth on either side of Han who nodded to the other human. "Jerolm." 

Jerolm returned the nod. "Solo." 

Han sat up straight. "Now, that we're finished with the reunion, let's get onto the business." 

"Ah, if you only flew as fast," Jerolm started with a grin. "Perhaps you wouldn't be boarded by the authorities as often." 

Han leaned into the table. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Han." Jerolm presented open palms. "Buddy. I didn't have you fly all the way out here to pick a fight." 

"Then why did you get me out here?" 

"We've been through a lot together over the years," Jerolm presented as he looked around for a server-droid. 

"That include the times you've tried to kill me?" Han sneered. 

Jerolm returned his attention to the conversation. "Look Han, I'm a bounty hunter and you have a price on your head. That would put a strain on any relationship." Jerolm looked Han in the eye. "I've saved your life a number of times as well." 

Han knew that the bounty hunter was right. While serving with the Imperial Navy, Han had met the young and self-assured cadet Jerolm. And, Han suspected that Jerolm had something to do with the fact that he was not executed when he saved Chewbacca from a life of enslavement under the Empire. He did not know the details, and Jerolm never offered any. Jerolm never denied that he was involved with the matters that led to Han's ejection from the Navy as opposed to his execution. Even though Jerolm was only a cadet at the time, he had played some sort of role in that crucial event in Han's life, and that could not be denied. 

"Look Han," Jerolm offered, "Chewie doesn't hold a grudge and neither should you." 

"Well, maybe Chewie's a better human being than I am." Han eased back into his seat while the Wookie snorted at the last comment. 

"Very well." Jerolm's jaw clinched slightly. "I'll get to the point. I've come to collect on the marker." Now it was Jerolm's turn to lean in over the table. "I want the _Millennium Falcon_." 

Jerolm's request, rather his demand, stung like trooper's rifle set on heavy stun. Han found himself laughing before the seriousness of the matter caught up with him. "You what?" 

"I want the _Falcon_. You owe it to me." Jerolm was very serious. 

Memories of events that took place a number of years earlier flooded Han's mind. 

* * * 

Han was on Tatooine, a planet he often promised himself never to return to, but still found himself there all too often. But, the deal was too good to pass up. All he had to do was deliver a shipment of moisture vaporator parts to a small group of desperate farmers that had fallen on hard times due to a band of renegades extorting their credits for "protection". When the farmers refused to pay, the renegades managed to destroy a majority of their farms. Rather than cave in, the farmers rallied together and managed to arrange purchase of the much-needed components under the nose of their "protectors". They only needed someone willing to make the delivery. 

After checking, and double-checking, that the extortionists had absolutely no ties to Jabba the Hutt, Han Solo took the job. Tatooine was a big rock after all. What where the chances that a little local trouble between some moisture farmers and a petty gang of crooks lead to anything other than an easy run and a few thousand well earned credits? 

It was then that Han truly began to understand Jabba's determination to see the smuggler pay for his mistakes. Shortly after making delivery of the moisture vaporator parts, the easy little run turned sour. Bounty hunters had turned up like a swarm of hungry mynocks descending upon a shipyard. Han had avoided capture, as well as death for that matter. But, he had become separated from Chewbacca and his ship in doing so. Within hours of unloading the last pallet of coil-tubes, and a whirlwind of chaotic events, Han found himself clinging to consciousness. Somewhere in some dusty shantytown on the edge of the Dune Sea, in a dead end alley, he lay on a heap of garbage. His left shoulder was dislocated from the fall he had just taken from atop a three-story tenement. His vision blurred from the blood escaping from a nasty laceration along his scalp. He had been cornered on that rooftop by a pair of bounty hunters intent on cashing in on his hide for the Hutt's generous bounty. But, something, no someone, intervened. A third bounty hunter managed to surprise and dispose of the two currently threatening Han's future. With no more fight left, Han waited for the third bounty hunter to claim his prize. He looked up at the tall bald man standing above him, staring down the barrel of a large Havoc 9K repeating assault blaster. 

* * * 

"I saved your life Solo. You owe me." 

Chewbacca's eyes shifted from Jerolm to Han, and then back again to Jerolm. 

A strained chuckle escaped from Han. "Am I hearing you correctly, or is this some sort of attempt at being funny?" 

"I'm not joking with you Solo," Jerolm stated. "We can go back and forth on who owes who what. But, the truth of the matter is that the last time we met you were as good as dead. I could have hauled your sorry hide over to Jabba's and collected enough credits for an extended vacation. But, did I?" 

The details of that horrible day on Tatooine were beginning to escape suppression. Han raised an eyebrow. "The deal?" 

"That's right. We made a deal," Jerolm confirmed. "And, I expect you to honor it." 

"I was barely hanging on at that point. I thought I was going to die," Han pressed on. "I would have said anything, or promised anything. You can't honestly…" 

"You promised me your ship with the condition that I could collect when I needed it, and I need it." 

Han protested. "I was dying. I would have promised you Corellia itself if I thought it would save me." Han waved his hand to further his point. "You can't hold me accountable for what I said or did at that point." 

Jerolm glared at Han. "I can. And, I will. You begged for your life…" 

"I wouldn't say begged," Han interrupted. 

Jerolm motioned for Han to let him continue. "Very well. You bargained for your life. And, the resulting deal was that I would take over ownership of the _Millennium Falcon_ after you managed to tie up any loose ends." Jerolm smiled. "Surely, I've provided you with more than ample time to complete any outstanding matters." 

Han was taken aback. "Listen pal. In case you haven't heard, there's a rebellion going on right now and I've managed to get caught up in it." 

"I heard something about that. You getting into the arms dealing business, now?" 

"It's much more than that. And, I'm too involved to be giving away my ship. I'm not handing her over." 

Jerolm leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "I was afraid of that. That's why I arranged a few precautions back then." 

"Precautions?" Han asked with an accompanying questioning growl from Chewbacca. "What kind of precautions?" 

"Do you remember that medical-droid that patched you up after I found you?" 

"Remember?" Han grimaced with painful memory. "That masochistic machine almost finished the job that those two bounty hunters started." 

"Well, to assure that you would follow through with our deal, I had strictox injected into your system while you were in the bacta tank." 

Jerolm's declaration increased the rage beginning to simmer deep within Han. "You son of a…" 

Chewbacca cut Han's curse off with a low angry growl as the Wookie's massive hand shot out to grip Jerolm around the neck. Jerolm was prepared for the reaction and he only flinched slightly as the Wookie's grip tightened around his neck. 

"Kill me, and you'll be killing yourself," Jerolm managed to gasp. 

Han realized that Jerolm was right and motioned for Chewbacca to let go. The Wookie reluctantly did so. Jerolm took a deep life assuring breath. Strictox was a manufactured poison that when injected into nearly any species would lie dormant and undetectable amid the victim's DNA structure. After a predetermined amount of time established by the dosage administered, the victim's DNA would begin to deteriorate causing major destruction of all cell tissue and ultimately death. "How long do I got?" 

"Not long," Jerolm informed Han. "Maybe a week. Two weeks top?" 

Chewbacca growled his concern. 

"That isn't going to work, Chewie," Han said with a weak smile before turning his attention back to Jerolm. "Each dose of strictox has a unique antidote that's created with the initial injection." 

"And, there's no other means of curing it's effects what's the strictox has established itself in the system," Jerolm added. 

Han felt a little lightheaded upon hearing about his current condition. He was not sure if it was just psychological or a side effect of strictox. He was determined to not let it cloud his thinking. He sneered at Jerolm. "And, I trust that you are in possession of the antidote." 

"It's safe." 

"How can I be sure you'll hand it over once you've taken possession of the _Falcon_. Or that it's even the correct antidote?" 

Jerolm smiled. "Listen, Solo. I like you. I don't want to see you dead anymore than yourself. But, a deal's…" 

"… a deal," Han finished. 

Jerolm nodded. "Now, shall we discuss how to proceed with the transaction." 

* * * 

The _Millennium Falcon_ steadily made its way free from the gravitational pull of Sutter's Station and the accompanying gas giant that the moon orbited. Jerolm sat at the ship's controls making the necessary adjustments for the jump to hyperspace. Acquiring the _Falcon_ happened to turn out much easier than he had expected. He had not particularly enjoyed employing such means as strictox in order to obtain the modified freighter, but the acquisition would prove invaluable in his line of work. And, he did consider Han a friend, even if the feeling was not mutual. The more Jerolm thought on the subject the more he decided that he was doing Solo a favor. Take away his means of smuggling, a dangerous trade to say the least, and the man might live a little longer. 

Jerolm checked the ship's onboard chronometer and reckoned that Solo should have found the antidote that he had secured at a remote locker at the station by now. He had shortened the amount of time that he said Solo had left in case something had happened and the antidote he had left was unobtainable. He had a backup plan that included a second batch of the antidote being delivered if need be. Of course that would be after he and the _Falcon_ were well far enough away. 

Upon boarding the _Millennium Falcon_, Jerolm scanned for any lifeforms and detected minor life signs below the deck. After insuring that the hidden smuggling compartments where void of any unwanted passengers, he figured that there was a nest of vermin, probably Tatooine desert rats, that would have to be exterminated when he had the opportunity to perform a major overhaul. Solo had made a lot of modifications to the vessel, many of which were not completed with the neatness Jerolm would have preferred. The fact that Solo had let the ship become infested disappointed him, but did not surprise him. And, there was little fear of Solo rigging any destructive triggers among the onboard systems. Jerolm was sure that Solo was already plotting on how he was going to get the _Falcon_ back. 

But, that was not going to happen. Jerolm had plans for ship such as this. If it was half the ship that Solo bragged about, then it would suite his needs quite well. Jerolm finished the last calculations for hyperspace and readied himself for the jump. The last buttons were pushed and the proper levers were switched and the _Millennium Falcon_ left real space. 

Once in hyperspace, Jerolm had the opportunity to set the automated controls and leave the cockpit. He stood up from the pilot's seat and stretched as much as the low overhead would allow, before heading back to find out what sort of galley the _Falcon_ possessed. 

Jerolm entered the forward cargo hold and he instinctively drew the Havoc 9K from its holster before he realized he was doing so. This caught not only himself off guard, but the onboard intruder as well. The intruder, a young human, maybe eighteen standard years old with a mop of tousled blond hair, still had his blaster holstered, a mistake that was going to cost him. Jerolm squeezed the trigger. The intruder closed his eyes and winced as the bolt of energy that should have cut him down never emerged from the heavy blaster in Jerolm's hand. More shocking to Jerolm than finding the intruder, was the fact that his trusted sidearm had misfired. 

The intruder took this opportunity to draw his own blaster and leveled it in the direction of Jerolm's chest. "Drop it!" the young intruder ordered. 

Jerolm squeezed the trigger again, and again it did not fire. The intruder angled his blaster a few centimeters up and right. There was no question that his blaster was operational as a bolt of energy shot past Jerolm's ear and seared a support beam behind his head. Jerolm dropped the malfunctioning Havoc 9K and spread his hands in a non-threatening manner. "Who are you?" Jerolm inquired. 

The youth cautiously stepped closer, keeping his blaster centered on Jerolm's chest. "I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm a friend of Captain Solo's." 

* * * 

Skywalker had insisted that Jerolm head back to the cockpit, where the kid managed to dig up a set of binders and secured Jerolm to the co-pilot's seat. Once Skywalker was assured that Jerolm would stay put, he sat himself at the pilot's controls and began to plot a course change. Jerolm finally spoke up. "Look kid. I don't know how you know Solo, but I can pay you twice as much as much as he is." 

Jerolm's hijacker did not look up as he worked the controls. "Han's not paying me. I'm helping him retrieve the ship that was swindled from him." 

"Swindled?" Jerolm spat. "I'm no swindler. If you want to talk about a swindler, let me point out that friend of yours, Solo." 

Luke looked up, brushing the hair from his eyes. "Han might have been involved in some questionable matters in the past, but now he's aiding the alliance." 

Jerolm would have thrust an accusing finger at Luke if his hands were not bound. "You're part of that rebellion that Han's gotten himself tangled with." 

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He quickly returned his attention to the controls. 

"Very well, kid. If you don't want to talk about the rebellion, tell me how you managed to go undetected when I scanned for lifeforms." 

Luke looked back at Jerolm, but did not say anything. Jerolm could see the distrust in his eyes. "Come on, kid. What's it going to hurt? I'm not going anywhere." Jerolm tugged at the bindings to further his case. 

"Alright, I guess…" Luke sat up with a glimmer of pride in his blue eyes. "I used an ancient Jedi meditation technique that lowers the heartbeat and breathing…" 

"Jedi!" Jerolm cut Luke off. "Now you're telling me that you're a Jedi?" 

"No," Luke protested. "I'm not a Jedi." Luke voice fell almost silent. That glimmer Jerolm juste noted beginning to fade with uncertainty. "Not yet, anyway." 

Jerolm was beginning to realize that there might actually be more to this kid than he thought. "I guess that would explain why my blaster misfired," Jerolm offered. "You got some ties with the Force, or something?" 

Luke kept his attention focused on the ship's controls. "Or something," he quietly reiterated. 

* * * 

The _Millennium Falcon_ dropped out of hyperspace, and on course to Sutter's Station. The freighter's sensors came to life with urgency. But, neither Luke nor Jerolm needed the sensors to tell them that they were in trouble. They both gazed out the cockpit to find three Imperial Star Destroyers between them and the station. 

"Uh-oh," Luke stammered as his hands flew across the _Falcon's_ controls. "I think we're in trouble." 

"What kind of trouble?" Jerolm pressed. "If it's Solo they want, we'll just let them know this isn't his ship anymore, and we're not smugglers." 

"They're not concerned with smugglers," Luke offered. 

Jerolm realized how deep he actually was. "Your rebellion." 

Luke did not answer. He did not have time. He sent the _Millennium Falcon_ into a plummeting spiral away from the Star Destroyers as they opened up with a barrage of turbolasers. Laser-fire displaced the exhaust of the _Falcon's_ drive-units. 

Luke reached over and unlocked the binders restraining Jerolm. "I'm going to need your help," Luke announced. 

"I figured as much," Jerolm responded as he undid the remaining straps keeping him confined to the co-pilot's seat. 

"Make the calculations for a new jump," Luke barked. 

Jerolm did just that as Luke tried to put as much space as possible between the _Falcon_ and the Star Destroyers. "Where to?" Jerolm spat. 

"Anywhere. Just get us out of here." 

A few quick moments and a number of too close for comfort shots nearly eradicating the freighter's shields, the _Millennium Falcon_ was once again in hyperspace. Luke sank into the pilot's seat with a sigh, realizing a second too late that he had made a mistake. 

Luke felt cold metal, the barrel of his own blaster as Jerolm pressed it against the side of his head. "Alright, Jedi," Jerolm hissed. "I don't think that this blaster is going to misfire." 

* * * 

Cyndar was the sixth planet in a far-off system that had little to offer anyone. Light-years from any substantial trade route or strategically significant location, the barren world was littered with volcanoes, both active and dormant. Currently nestled within a crater of a long dead volcano was the _Millennium Falcon_. Fabricated structures lined the inside edge of the crater. This was the outpost of a group of smugglers that did not ask questions, a group familiar with both Han and Jerolm. Han Solo managed to spot his old ship shortly after the shuttle's sensors detected it's presence. The Lambda -class shuttle, recently liberated from the Imperial Navy, folded its wings up and gently touched down next the Correlian freighter. 

Standing at the extended ramp of the _Millennium Falcon_ was Jerolm and Luke. Neither one appeared to have a weapon anywhere near being drawn. The ramp of the shuttle extended to touch the rocky ground of the makeshift landing pad and two forms emerged, Han Solo and Chewbacca the Wookie. As they began to walk toward the _Falcon_, Jerolm and Luke strode to meet them halfway. 

"Well, Solo," Jerolm shouted as they continued to walk toward one another. "You were pretty clever stowing the kid here aboard the _Falcon_. I don't know how he managed to pull off, but he had the jump on me." 

Han flashed Luke a smile. "Yeah, the kid's full of surprises." 

"Who are you calling kid?" Luke began to protest. 

Jerolm set a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Cool your thrusters, Luke." Jerolm looked over at Han. "Regardless of any Imperial entanglement we may have endured your ship was as good as yours again with Luke on the job." 

"Yeah, I know. The kid," Han glared at Luke. "And, I do mean kid, is going is going to topple the entire Empire if they don't watch themselves." Han looked back at Jerolm. "I figure it was the _Falcon_ you were gunning for. So, I wasn't going to make it easy for you." 

"Easy? The entire Imperial Navy is looking for that ship. You've managed to make quite the name for yourself. The last thing I need is to draw anymore attention to myself by flying around in the Empire's most wanted bucket of bolts." 

"There's no reason to get nasty," Han scowled. "If you want me to take her back, just ask." A mischievous grin grew on Han's face. "Even if a deal's a…" 

"Deal!" Jerolm thrust out his hand and clasped Han's with a hearty shake. "She's all yours old buddy." 

Jerolm released his grip and began to walk toward the largest of the structures surrounding them. "Good luck, Solo," Jerolm shouted back over his shoulder without slowing down. "Owning that ship is as good as signing your own death warrant." 

Jerolm disappeared into the shadows of the structure and Chewbacca let out a snort. "You said it, Chewie," Han agreed and then turned to Luke. "I owe you one." 

"Just one?" Luke smiled. 

Han, Luke and Chewbacca started for the ramp of the _Millennium Falcon_, Han throwing his arm around Luke's shoulder. "Alright, more than one. What do you say I make up for it on Ord Mantell?" 

"What's on Ord Mantell?" 

"Meeting up with Jerolm reminded me of a marker I need to call on." 

Luke's brow furrowed with concern. Han smiled. "Trust me." 

* * *

  
Disclaimer - _Star Wars_ and all related characters belong to the appropriate entities. The story on the other hand is an original tale by your's truly. 


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